Pasha Is Better Than Pavel
by Immer Mit Der Ruhe
Summary: A prank gone wrong leads to certain revelations about Pavel Chekov for Hikaru Sulu and Nyota Uhura. They're not pretty revelations.


Ruhe: Hey! Before anyone reads this, you should probably know that this story contains mentions of child abuse, sexual abuse/non-con, child neglect, and suicidal thoughts. Be ready for a not quite so happy story, although the ending is rather fluffy.

* * *

- Pasha Is Better Than Pavel -

* * *

If you'd asked Hikaru Sulu how he thought he would die a couple of hours prior, he probably would have said something along the lines of nobly going down with the Enterprise in battle or in some epic sword fighting duel like in those old pirate movies. Something dashing and action packed – maybe he'd even die from an adrenaline overdose.

But now he was pretty sure he was going to die from laughter. His stomach was throbbing slightly from laughing so hard and a small part of his mind was wondering if he'd ruptured something. His mother had broken a rib from coughing too hard once; maybe he'd done the same while laughing…

But really, who could blame him? Scotty had decided to set up some sort of high tech sound system on the bridge – something about getting revenge on the captain for firing him (although Sulu was pretty sure he'd quit on his own…) – and whenever someone walked onto the bridge, it played a song that was somehow supposed to fit them. Scotty had spun a bunch of bullshit about the machine being able to detect their attitude and personality, but Sulu had accidently happened upon him while he was tinkering with it earlier and discovered that it actually just hacked into their personal files and analyzed them, spitting out a song based on their backgrounds.

Of course, that didn't make it any less hilarious when Beyoncé started playing at a nearly deafening level when Spock strode onto the bridge, calmly professional. He'd just raised an eyebrow in question when everyone doubled over in laughter. That is, until Scotty explained the device to him. Sulu swore he saw a slight pink shade bloom on the commander's cheeks. Apparently in Spock's file there was a note about him filing a frantic (for a half-Vulcan) report, searching for a vanished DVD. A vintage DVD of a live Beyoncé concert. Sulu didn't think that DVDs even _existed_ anymore, outside of museums.

Of course, Sulu's own had been rather embarrassing. He didn't think that anyone (coughthecaptaincough) would ever let him live down the fact that the theme from the old western "The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly" started playing when he came for his shift. He kind of had a weakness for showdowns and duels, okay? He couldn't help it that he wanted to go down in a fiery blaze of action and swordplay.

Sulu had, sadly, come too late to hear Captain Kirk's but apparently it was something Disney. Uhura had started telling him eagerly, but the Captain had threatened to leave her on the next deserted planet they stopped at if she uttered another word on the subject. As soon as his back was turned, though, Uhura had shot Sulu a look that clearly said "I'll tell you as soon as he leaves."

The whole setup had brightened Sulu's day considerably. You'd be surprised how monotonous life on the Enterprise could be sometimes. Sure, half of the time was grand adventure and new discoveries, but the other half was a large chunk of… well, empty space.

"Hey, Chekov's shift starts in about fifteen minutes, doesn't it?" Uhura asked, leaning a little closer to Sulu, but still having to raise her voice slightly in order to be heard properly, due to the distance between their stations.

"Yeah, I believe so," Sulu replied, a grin starting to spread over his face. "Unless Doctor McCoy has caught him, of course."

"If Chekov lets Doctor McCoy detain him for something as simple as a cold then he's a lot sicker than we thought," Uhura said, smiling although she was clearly at least a little concerned for the youngest Enterprise crew member. "He really should take care of himself better, though."

"Well, you managed to convince him to take a whole hour off of his shift yesterday to go take a nap," Sulu shrugged, although the memory of his friend's hacking coughs still made his skin crawl. "That's progress, I suppose."

"Yeah, I suppose," Uhura replied a little distantly, frowning, the conversation lulling for a moment.

"So, what do you think his song will be?" Sulu asked, trying to distract her, and himself, from their increasingly melancholy thoughts.

A sly smile spread over the woman's face as soon as he'd asked the question, causing Sulu to become a little concerned. That smile was nothing short of devious.

"Did I ever tell you about the time I barged into Chekov's room without knocking and found him singing retro songs from the 2010's?" Uhura asked, a wicked twinkle in her eyes.

"Wait, the 'Starships' one? It was something like that, right?" Sulu, asked, his grin widening.

"Niki Minaj, I think," Uhura answered, nodding. "Or it could be that _really_ old one by ABBA."

"'Dancing Queen'?" Sulu suggested, trying to stifle his laughter. "That would be great."

They looked at each other, identical grins spreading across their faces.

"'Young and sweet, only sewenteen~!" they laughed, imitating Chekov's heavy accent.

"That would be _great_," Sulu said, once he'd stopped laughing again.

"Lieutenant Uhura, Lieutenant Sulu, might I remind you that you are on shift at the moment?" a calm, rather uptight voice asked, causing Sulu to startle slightly as his head whipped around to see Commander Spock, who was looking highly unamused.

"Of course, sir," Sulu replied, trying not to blush as he returned to the controls.

He couldn't help but glance over at the door every few minutes, though, to check for Chekov. He couldn't help but notice Uhura doing the same thing, the two of them exchanging mischievous smiles whenever they caught the other looking.

* * *

Sulu didn't end up seeing the moment that Chekov walked in, however. Trust that to be the only time he actually had some space debris he needed to navigate around.

He would have never guessed that the song belonged to Chekov, though, not without seeing him standing just inside the doorway, his nose scrunched up adorably in puzzlement and curiosity. So far the song was just some soft guitar and piano – the exact opposite of the loud, electric, pop songs that the navigator typically listened to.

_"Hey there little red riding hood_

_You sure are looking good_

_You're everything a big bad wolf could want…"_

The soothing voice of a woman echoed through the bridge. Everyone had stopped talking now, considering the music, confused by the meaning of the song. And while the tone of the song sounded initially soothing, there was something about the chords that made Sulu's skin crawl. Not to mention the lyrics… they were a little creepy. What were they supposed to be hinting at?

_"Little red riding hood_

_I don't think little big girls should_

_Go walking in these spooky old woods alone…"_

At these words, a small smile tugged at Sulu's lips. Once Chekov figured out that the song was for him he probably wouldn't be too happy about being called a little girl. He already got annoyed enough at people calling him "kid" or saying that he was too young to be on the Enterprise.

_"What big eyes you have_

_The kind of eyes that drive wolves mad_

_Just to see that you don't get chased_

_I think I oughta walk with you for a ways…"_

Okay, now that was kind of creepy. What was the song about? Some pedophile?

As soon as the thought crossed Sulu's mind, he immediately looked over at Chekov. The young Starfleet officer had gone stock still, body uncomfortably tense. While his cheeks were still a little red from the cold his body was fighting off, he was considerably paler, the color draining from his face as he listened to the dark, seductive song. His hands had closed into fists and his short nails were digging into his hands, sure to leave crescent shaped marks on his palms.

_"What full lips you have_

_They're sure to lure someone bad_

_So until you get to grandma's place_

_I think you oughta walk with me and be safe…"_

Sulu stood up from his chair abruptly, eyes still focused solely on Chekov, taking a step towards the young Russian, unsure exactly what he was supposed to do – only that he needed to be near his friend. However, the movement drew Chekov's eyes to him, causing the young ensign to freeze like a deer in the headlights of a speeding car, before turning and bolting out of the room.

Sulu made to run after him, but a hand gripped his arm tightly, holding him back. He turned around to snap at the other person for preventing him from helping Chekov, but he closed his mouth when he saw Uhura looking back at him.

"I'll go talk to him," Uhura said, expression solemn and her voice unwavering. "You need to continue piloting this ship until I can get someone to relieve you."

"…Yeah, okay," Sulu replied, sighing as he sat back down at his station, correcting the ship's trajectory slightly from which it had deviated in the time that he had been distracted. "Make it quick, though. Right now I could almost care less if we ran into an asteroid."

_"Gonna keep my sheep suit on_

_'Til I'm sure that you've been shown_

_That I can be trusted walking with you alone…"_

The short hairs on the back of Sulu's neck were standing upright as the deceptively sweet song washed over him. His knuckles were almost completely white due to how tightly he was gripping the controls. He grit his teeth slightly, his shoulders tense. All he wanted to do was to run after Chekov and help him. Or, well, at least _feel_ like he was helping him. He really didn't care that much whether Chekov told him about whatever in his past had fit the song, but he needed to be there with him. He just needed to be there for him.

_"Little red riding hood_

_I'd like to hold you if I could_

_But you might think I'm a big bad wolf so I won't…"_

Around him, the bridge was completely silent, save for the beeping and whirring of the machinery.

Sulu didn't look to see the others' expressions. He didn't want to see if they had understood what had just happened, both Chekov's reaction to the song and Uhura and his reactions to Chekov's reaction. He didn't want to know what they were thinking of Chekov right now, or what they were thinking of him right now.

Of course, Sulu wasn't entirely sure he'd understood all of what this was about either. The song wasn't too hard to interpret when combined with the fact that Chekov was still underage. Clearly someone hadn't been able to resist sweet, innocent, little Pavel Chekov, although Sulu had absolutely no clue who. An older student? A professor? A…a parent, even?

_"What a big heart I have_

_The better to love you with_

_Little red riding hood_

_Even bad wolves can be good…"_

"Can someone turn this off?" Sulu snapped, still glaring at his control panel and avoiding everyone else's eyes.

"I may be able to disable the device, however it would be prudent to alert Lieutenant Commander Scott," Spock replied after a moment, voice carefully neutral.

Sulu wasn't sure if the Vulcan's lack of emotion on the subject was calming or frustrating. His ever logical presence helped focus Sulu, but another part of him wanted to yell at Spock, wanted to demand to know why Chekov's pain warranted so little reaction and emotion.

_"I try to keep satisfied_

_Just to walk close by your side_

_Maybe you'll see things my way_

_'Fore we get to grandma's place…"_

"It appears to have been integrated into communications," Spock said, deft hands detangling the wiring in the control panel. "It will take some time to reroute the energy flow in order to detach the device."

Which meant that they were going to be stuck with it for another few hours. Great. Uhura better get someone to take his shift soon, because if she didn't he might have to just completely destroy communications.

_"Little red riding hood_

_You sure are looking good_

_You're everything a big bad wolf could want…"_

* * *

It was another ten minutes before anyone came to relieve Sulu. If he'd been able to set things on fire with the strength of his glare, then all of space would have been incinerated by then. Thankfully, Sulu was only human. But, honestly, he was reigning in his emotions quite well. He'd been tempted (so, so tempted) to just storm off the bridge to find Chekov and Uhura, knowing that someone would have taken up his post in an effort to not run into a meteor, but he'd refrained.

It was probably for the best, anyway, that he'd stayed put, Sulu kept telling himself. Chekov was probably feeling overwhelmed enough as it was, and having Sulu crowd him wouldn't help. It would make _him_ feel better, but it might just make Chekov retreat further into himself. Really, if anyone could get to him it would be Uhura. With dating a half-Vulcan she probably had a better idea of how to comfort someone when they were trying to repress their emotions.

Of course, the timing for all of this was just horrible. Well, they weren't being attacked, so he supposed it could be worse, but poor Chekov was already a little disoriented from the cold he'd picked up on Risa when they'd stopped to refuel and relax. The whole situation must be emotionally exhausting for him. Chekov had always been a surprisingly private person, after all. Despite having known each other for a few years now, all that Sulu knew about Chekov's life before the Starfleet Academy was that he was an only child, that he lived in Russia, and that his father's name was Andrei.

Sulu let out a sigh as he strode through the halls of the Enterprise en route to the young navigator's room. He unclenched his fists, stretching his fingers and letting the blood flow back into his hands, his knuckles returning to their customary fleshy color.

He shouldn't be mad. Or, at least, he shouldn't let his anger show. That would probably only put Chekov on edge. Well, more on edge. As much as Sulu wanted to track down whoever had hurt the young ensign and make them pay, what Chekov needed right now wasn't an avenger. A protector maybe, but not someone violent or dangerous. He needed Hikaru Sulu, friend, not Lieutenant Sulu, fencer and pilot.

Sulu had to bite back another sigh as he rounded to corner of the hallway. Uhura was sitting on the floor next to the door to Chekov's room, her back to the wall and a sad and slightly hurt expression on her face.

"Hey," Sulu said, unsure how else to greet her, his voice dropping to a softer sound level. "How'd he doing?"

"He told me to go away at the beginning, but hasn't said anything else since then," Uhura replied as Sulu seated himself beside her against the wall. "I've tried talking to him, but…"

They lapsed into silence, Uhura brining her knees up to her chest, making herself seem smaller. Sulu frowned, wishing that he could do something to help her, too. Uhura solved things by talking, but with Chekov denying her that she probably felt useless, like she'd somehow failed him.

"Chekov?" Sulu called, raising his voice slightly and knocking on the door next to where he was seated against the wall.

There was no reply.

"Chekov, are you doing okay?" Sulu continued, trying not to be discouraged by the lack of reply.

Again, there was no reply, but Sulu was able to hear the rustle of movement behind the door, as if Chekov, too, was seated next to it with his back against the wall on the opposite side.

"Chekov… Pavel, we just – " he started again, only to be cut off by a slightly croaky voice.

"Do not call me zat!" the voice – Chekov – snapped, although the anger behind it was dulled by the watery tone of the voice.

Sulu flinched slightly, as though he'd been slapped, blinking in surprise. That wasn't the response he'd been expecting. He'd thought that Chekov considered him a friend. He certainly considered Chekov a friend, but, well, it looked like that the sentiment wasn't quite mutual. Sure, they didn't use each other's first names often, but Sulu had always assumed that it was an option. He hadn't considered that Chekov wouldn't trust him with his first name.

"What do you want us to call you, then?" Uhura asked, her head turned so that her cheek rested against the wall, as if that would somehow let Chekov hear her better.

Silence fell again, Uhura's answer hanging in the air. After a few moments, Sulu let out another sigh, his head falling back against the wall, resigning himself to the fact that the (short, much too short) conversation was now over.

"I…" a soft voice began, startling Sulu slightly. "Y-you may… Chekov is acceptable."

Sulu's momentary happiness left him as he heard Chekov's unsteady answer. He was about to reply, but Uhura gave him a look that stopped him.

"… and I… you may use Pasha," the young navigator continued after a pause, his voice a little less watery, but a little more tentative, a little quieter.

"Pasha," Uhura breathed, the soft sound rolling off of her tongue with the same accent with which Chekov (_Pasha_) had spoken it. "It's a traditional nickname for Pavel, isn't it?"

"It is better," _Pahsa_ replied quietly, giving no further explanation.

The three of them lapsed into silence again. Sulu shifted slightly, trailing his hand on the wall lightly, imagining, for a moment, that the wall wasn't there at all, and that he could reach back and take Pasha's pale hand in his own.

"My little sister used to call me Ta-ta," Uhura said after a moment, breaking the silence. "If you'd like – "

"No!" Pasha exclaimed (_squeaked_) sounding scandalized. "I-I did not mean… I could not possibly take something so precious!"

"Just Nyota, then," Uhura replied calmly.

"I…" Pasha said, trailing off. Sulu could already imagine the bright pink blush on his face.

"And you can call me Hikaru, you know," Sulu continued, hand still against the wall, as if Pasha could actually feel it there, against his back. "Or Karu. It means to cut hair. My aunt started calling me that after I accidentally cut off my bangs while practicing fencing."

"I-I cannot…" Pasha started, probably blushing even harder now.

"I want you to," Sulu – Karu – insisted, pressing his hand harder against the wall. "Consider it a gift."

"Your names are both so pretty," Pasha said, his voice so soft Hikaru almost didn't hear it. "Pavel is a _dirty_ name."

Hikaru was taken aback by the malice and resentment he heard in the young Russian's voice. It sounded so unlike Pasha. The only time he could remember ever hearing Pasha talk in such a tone was when he told Hikaru about how he was unable to save Spock's mother.

"_I_ like it," Hikaru replied tentatively, truthfully. He liked the name a lot, but mainly because it belonged to his Pasha.

"You should not," Pasha said, sounding a little distant. "Only dirty people should say zat dirty name."

"You're not dirty, Pasha," Nyota protested, her voice a little louder than it had been, unable to control all of her frustration at being unable to help Pasha.

This time, there was no reply. They waited, and Hikaru wondered if Pasha was just taking a moment to recollect his thoughts again, but the silence stretched on, and on, and on. Hikaru thought he heard a shuffle behind the wall once, but he heard nothing beyond that.

"Pasha…" Hikaru started, unsure of what to say, but needing to break the silence.

"Pasha, can we come in?" Nyota asked, filling in for Hikaru. "You don't need to talk. We just need to see…"

_… need to see that you're okay._ Hikaru finished mentally, although he already knew that Pasha wasn't okay – at least not mentally.

Again, there was no reply. Again, the silence stretched onwards. Hikaru let out another melancholy sigh, settling back against the wall again. However, just as he closed his eyes, tipping his head back against the wall, the door to the young navigator's room opened with a soft hiss.

Standing in the door, clutching the doorframe like a lifeline, was Pasha. He didn't come out of his room; he didn't even stick his head out, but he peered out at Hikaru and Nyota shyly. Hikaru couldn't help but notice the puffy redness of his eyes and cheeks, and how he seemed to look so much smaller, shadowed by the darkness of his room.

"I am fine," he said, trying to sound firm and confidant, but only succeeding in sounding unsteady and tired. "You do not need to do…to do zis."

He waved a hand at them, sitting there on the hallway floor outside of his room, looking guilty, but at the same time a little hopeful. A little happy.

"We wanted to," Hikaru replied simply, standing up. "It's what friends do."

Pasha just stared at him, clearly caught off guard by the pilot's response. Hikaru had to restrain the urge to hug him. He peered behind Hikaru at Nyota, who gave him a small smile in response. The young navigator ducked his head, his curls flopping down over his forehead a bit, looking more disheveled than Hikaru had ever seen them.

"If you are not going to leave, you may come in," Pasha replied finally, moving back into his dark room, turning on the lights almost as an afterthought.

He padded over to his bed, the only piece of furniture in the room, save a chest of drawers, looking back at Hikaru and Nyota a little warily before curling up in the far corner against the wall, peering back at the two. Hikaru debated for a moment whether he should sit on the floor or on the bed, but Nyota brushed by him easily, placing herself gracefully in the corner opposite Pasha. Hikaru followed her lead and plopped himself down in the middle of the bed, although he made sure to leave enough space between himself and Pasha, not wanting to encroach on Pasha's personal space any more than he already had.

"You do not need to worry about me," Pasha said after a moment, peering at Hikaru and Nyota curiously. "I am not going to hurt myself."

"I hadn't even thought of it," Hikaru replied, a little startled. And it was true. He'd imagined the young Russian crying and upset, but he'd never considered… he'd never considered that Pasha would try to harm himself, but now that he'd said it, all that Hikaru could think of was his friend, lying in a pool of his own blood or strung up on a makeshift noose.

"I have zought about it," Pasha admitted, the words spilling from his mouth, eyes wide and _scared_, "but I would not do it. It is stupid an-and selfish for me to even _zink_ about, and I would not – it is not…"

Pasha ducked his head again, taking in deep gulps of air, sounding like he was on the verge of hyperventilation. Hikaru moved immediately, clutching Pasha to his chest without even stopping to consider whether this invasion of personal space would be welcome or not until Pasha was already wrapping his arms around him and burying his face into the fabric of Hikaru's shirt. Hikaru, unsure of what else to do, just held onto him while Nyota moved over carefully and stroked the navigator's hair, murmuring something soothingly in what Hikaru assumed was Russian.

Hikaru closed his eyes and just held on.

He woke the next morning in approximately the same position: Pasha in his arms, the younger man's face buried in his chest, with Nyota on the other side, fingers still tangled in Pasha's light colored curls.

"My babushka always told me not to talk to strangers," a soft, heavily accented voice said, startling Hikaru. "I should have listened to her, but I was so lonely…"

Pasha glanced up at him for a moment before burying his face back into Hikaru's shirt, clutching onto Hikaru a little tighter.

"You do not want to hear it," he muttered, voice muffled against Hikaru's chest.

"Only if you want to tell me," Hikaru said neutrally, although a small part of him really did want to know what had happened.

The silence resumed, and Hikaru was beginning to think that Pasha had fallen asleep again when the navigator spoke.

"My mama and papa, zey were wery busy people," he continued, a note of longing in his voice. "Zey did not have time for m – for a child. I understood zat zey had lots of work to do, but I was wery lonely. I was not good at making friends."

"You've gotten better," a sleepy voice said over Pasha's shoulder, Nyota snuggling up to them, eliciting a small, tentative smile from Pasha.

"Well, back zen I was not," he replied, letting go of Hikaru's shirt with one hand to grasp Nyota's hand in his own. "But zere was… zere was a man, recently retired professor, who was not far from my house. I saw him when I walked home from school. For long time… for long time I did not talk to him, but zen one day he talked to me. He was nice and we talked about chemistry – he used to teach chemistry – and zen we talked more, ewery day when I walked home from school."

Here Pasha stopped to catch his breath. Hikaru could feel him trembling slightly, and he was about to suggest that he stop telling them when the young navigator started talking again.

"He… he started letting me come inside his house," Pasha continued, his voice softer. "My parents, zey were never home until wery late, so zey did not know. Mostly we just talked about chemistry, but zen… zen he started saying zings. Zat I am pretty, zat… zat he is in lo-lowe with me."

The young Russian took in a ragged breath, and Hikaru could feel the wetness of his tears already soaking into his shirt, but Pasha kept on talking.

"He says 'You are so pretty, Pavel,' 'it is a shame zat you have no one else, Pavel,' 'Pavel is such a pretty name for such a pretty boy' – and zen he started doing zings to me, and I did not like zem, but I did not want ze nice words to stop, a-and…"

Pasha sniffled, but Hikaru didn't even register the salty, wet mess that the front of his shirt had become, rubbing soothing circles against Pasha's back, as Nyota smoothed down Pasha's disheveled curls comfortingly.

"I did dirty zings for pretty words," he said softly, trying to wipe the tears from his eyes with his fist. "But Pavel is not a pretty word. It is dirty."

Hikaru tensed slightly, squeezing Pasha even tighter against his chest, wanting to hold him like that forever, or at least until he stopped believing that it was him who had done something wrong.

"Oh, Pasha, baby," Nyota said, her own eyes becoming a little watery. "You're not dirty. You're not. The only think that was dirty was that old man."

"But I _let_ him," Pasha protested, voice a little choked.

"No, honey, you didn't," Nyota replied, looping her arms around his waist. "He was a dirty perverted thief, and no matter what you did he would have taken it from you anyway. I wasn't you. It was never you."

"She's right," Hikaru continued after a moment. "None of this is your fault. You're amazing and strong, and whatever he did to you was on him, not you."

"I do not need any more pretty words," Pasha protested, pushing away from Hikaru slightly. "I am done with pretty words."

"I wouldn't tell you them if I didn't believe them," Hikaru said softly.

"You're lying," Pasha replied, not angrily, just dejectedly.

"Pasha, look at me," Hikaru said, bringing his hand to Pasha's cheek and angling his head to look into Hikaru's eyes. "Do you think I would give anyone – _anyone_ – empty praise?"

"…No," Pasha admitted after a moment.

"Then believe me when I tell you that you are _not_ dirty," Hikaru replied, looking into the younger man's wide eyes.

"I will try," the young navigator replied, words muffled as he ducked his head against Hikaru's chest again. "For Karu."

Hikaru and Nyota exchanged a look. For now, that would have to be enough.


End file.
